The Sound of Bells
by YouSaid
Summary: Wendy's mother shares a tale with her daughter. A little bit of a fluffy writing exercise, but meh.


A/N: Hey guys! This is a little bit of a writing exercise. I did a major work based around multiple ideas from Peter Pan so this is built off one of them. I hope you guys enjoy it! xx

**The Sound of Bells**

"Have you ever caught a star?

"Let me tell you something my dear Wendy, it isn't easy. They float above the skies of Neverland like specks of sand upon the seashore, except they were cursed to remain in the sky. They live, for billions of years, caught in between universes – unable to move; unable to breathe. And every few moments, another one is extinguished.

"And between them and us, clouds span the horizon, obscuring the views of the world.

"They are sad upon those days, and their tears dot the ground, filling the rivers and lakes until their tears dry up and day break wipes away their tears. And yet I look up to the colours of a new day, the violent pinks and reds that sweep across the sky, and I swear I see something more; something shining with iridescence that falls, a million miles away. I take my boat and I sail, beyond the horizon, to where it falls.

"There at last I find it, a fallen star.

"Glowing and sparkling, it seems as though a thousand fireflies are trapped within a tiny rock. In a single moment, when my hand reaches out to touch it

"One small face stares down at me from above, her eyes twinkling with tiny hands waving. The constant sound of buzzing flitters around my head as I hold out my hand, awaiting the feather-light footsteps that trod across my palm. Enraptured by the sound of bells that appear to follow her wherever she goes, I follow the trail that she leaves behind.

"She collects the dust upon the ground that fell from her cradle of life and pours it into a small satchel about her waist. Her small appearance is measured by her voice. It is unearthly, sounding nothing like the words I know. Only like bells, twinkling and whistling as she flies past.

"She winds her way through the trees, and across worlds. Through towns she flies and her fairy dust awakens the children to the wonders of imagination. Still she cannot speak, but it is not necessary. Only some days, she looks up to the stars and I hear something in her voice that sound curiously like a sigh.

"Still, she flies to the children who are downcast, granting their happy endings with their dust. Until, well, one day she knows it is her last. She holds within her tiny hand only the barest smidgen of fairy dust with the glow surrounding her fading and turns to face me, making the sound of bells that sound her goodbye. She ventures towards a young child, only a baby in a cradle and sprinkles the last of her fairy dust over the child's cradle. Her eyes open and see the sparkling fairy above her. Her eyes widen and begin to cry, and yet instead, the fairy spoke, making her bell-like sounds and the child gave a small hiccup that turned into laughter.

"And the fairy begins to hope.

"For when that one child laughs, for that moment, she believes. When that child laughs, a million stars in the sky begin to fall from billions of light years away, their cradles firing through the atmosphere to land neatly across the world.

But they are too quick to catch; burning a little too bright for us to hold. They have their own world dear one. But every time a child laughs and believes, a new fairy is born."

"But mummy," Wendy asked quietly, her small hands laid out upon her pillow. "Did she ever really speak the fairy?"

"When the fairies all come together," he mother continued, "They make something even better that fairy dust. Pixie dust. It's dust that has the ability to do anything in the world, including make them big so that we can hear them. They can always speak Wendy, it's just a little too high for us to hear."

"Will I ever see a fairy?" Wendy asked her mother hopefully.

"Perhaps my dear," her mother laughed. "If you do, ask her for her name."

"What's your fairy's name mum?"

"Well," her mother thoughtfully smiled as her daughter began to drift off into sleep, " I call her my Little Star. But the children, they call her Tinkerbell."


End file.
